(///lake.motel.bonus – Derby Railway Station, UK)
Lewis was shaking all over “What are we going to do with the body?” That’s what the tall man had been whispering into his phone as he’d squeezed past on the way to his seat.
His nerves about this trip had been justified. First time in the States. Overnight train from New York to Chicago. And danger everywhere!
Don’t panic, he told himself. Must have meant something else. Try to relax. Go to the dining car. Get some dinner.
But it got worse.
Everywhere, people talking urgently into phones. Every message, more damning than the last.
“Nobody will find it in the lake,” a blonde woman whispered furtively.
“There’s a bonus if we get it done by tomorrow,” mumbled a portly man moments later.
“The money will be in left in our motel room,” the tall man hissed, involved once more.
Lewis had to do something. Had to. But what? Ring 911? Maybe, but say what. Accost them himself? Definitely not, too risky. Find the conductor? Yes, that made sense.
He scurried up and down the train, forever seeing his suspects checking their phones and typing away. He was almost sprinting now, practically knocking people over, sweat perspiring. And then he slammed into the bulky figure of the conductor.
“Steady there sir, where’s the fire?”
“It’s them, it’s them,” Lewis gibbered.
“Sir, you’re not making any sense.”
Lewis panted, tried to get his breath. “Three people. On the train. They’re plotting something. A murder. I’ve heard them.”
“Oh those people,” the guard smiled, looking down the corridor. Lewis looked back. The tall man. The blonde woman. The portly man. He recoiled.
They came closer. And then the tall man extended a hand.
“Fazakarley James, drama student, at your service.”
“D-D-Drama student?”
“Yes, improv drama. Trying to find an audience for our new work. Involves snatched conversations on trains.”
“You mean..”
“Of course. A fiction! We’re not planning to murder anyone.”
Lewis breathed deeply, and smiled.
“Of course, I can’t speak for our friend here,” Fazakerley continued, as the conductor clubbed Lewis on the head.
“Thanks for the delivery,” the conductor nodded. “Your money will be in the usual place. See you next week.”
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what3stories 